Work
Work
drones are dead by win-
ter. workers
never
finish.
start
at larva,
nursed for
a week on jelly,
pollen, honey—
then sealed
to
sleep.
when she
wakes—a bee—
she must demolish
the wax
door or
who
else
will. they
all do; then
groom legs and rise to
raise pupae.
milk throbs
‘cross
eyes,
then sweats
to succor
a queen. next, hanging,
she makes house,
then cleans.
spick &
span’s
the span,
so’s fanning,
slipping pollens in
slim panniers,
nectar
distilled.
the
flowers.
the flowers.
the flower’s firm threads.
embalming;
killing
what’s
killing.
and if
a queen goes
missing or one wants
one might learn
to lay
drone
sons
who will
take no share
in the labor whether
effort is
waste or
is
effort
of laying waste.
—
Alyssa Perry lives in Iowa City, where she works as a teacher, actor, proofreader, and editorial assistant with Rescue Press. She holds an MFA from the Iowa Writers’ Workshop. Her recent work appears in jubilat, West Branch Wired, and LVNG.
—
Photo by Emma Frances Logan on Unsplash
